


a little something to take the edge off

by saff__rnn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Dom/sub, Edging, Fluff, Forced Orgasm, Idiots in Love, Light BDSM, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Service Top, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:51:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14548137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saff__rnn/pseuds/saff__rnn
Summary: He’s up to four fingers now, and still undecided about what to do with the rest of the night. Steve isn’t gonna come tonight, that’s for sure. Bucky will have to make sure to wind him up enough to get him close, but not push him over the edge too quickly. They both like a challenge.Bucky doesn’t think he’s going to come tonight either. His dick's still tucked away in his briefs, soft and disinterested. No, not disinterested. It was just one of those days, Bucky figures, but that's okay. Seeing Steve, flushed all red and happy like this struck a deeper chord in him than justarousal. Being able to give him this, make him feel good, that in itself made Bucky feel dizzy with trust. For now, he thrusts his fingers a bit deeper, with intent, searching for—“Nhhgh.” Steve said. Bingo.





	a little something to take the edge off

“Steve.” 

Steve shifts his head to the side, flushed cheek pressed against the pillow. He's face down ass up on their bed, and Bucky is sitting next to him, pumping three fingers in and out of him. It’s understandable that Steve may be a bit distracted at the moment. 

“Steve. Stevie. Are you listening?” 

Steve nods as best he can in the position, and gives him a lazy thumbs up. His arms are pinned between his chest and the mattress, so it comes out kind of lopsided. 

“Wanna play a game?” Bucky says. They’d discussed it a few nights before, spooning on the couch pretending to watch TV. 

“Yeah.” 

Bucky grins at Steve’s dopey, blissful expression, and the cute way his hair sticks up in all directions. It simultaneously makes him want to smooth it out and muss it up some more. Or grip it with his metal hand and fuck into his mouth. Or come in it, just to see Steve’s annoyed but turned on glare. 

“Okay.” he pauses. “You’re not allowed to come.” 

Steve makes a half-hearted noise of protest that trails off into a moan. “It’s not a game if it's not fun,” he says, but Bucky could swear his eyes dilate. 

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” 

Self control wouldn’t usually be a problem for Steve, but he’s so keyed up already, aching for it. His mouth’s half open and his cock is drooling a pool of precome onto the sheets. Shit, Bucky should’ve put down a towel. 

He's been lazily finger fucking Steve for a while now, a sharp contrast to the urgency of post-mission sex two nights before. Steve had practically slammed Bucky onto the bed, panting and desperate, and Bucky had surged back up, teeth bared in a wild grin. Steve had come rutting himself against Bucky's thigh, forehead pressed to collarbone. Bucky came with Steve's hand curled around his dick, whispering filthy promises in his ear. 

He’s up to four fingers now, and still undecided about what to do with the rest of the night. Steve isn’t gonna come tonight, that’s for sure. Bucky will have to make sure to wind him up enough to get him close, but not push him over the edge too quickly. They both like a challenge. 

Bucky doesn’t think he’s going to come tonight either. His dick's still tucked away in his briefs, soft and disinterested. No, not disinterested. It was just one of those days, Bucky figures, but that's okay. Seeing Steve, flushed all red and happy like this struck a deeper chord in him than just _arousal_. Being able to give him this, make him feel good, that in itself made Bucky feel dizzy with trust. For now, he thrusts his fingers a bit deeper, with intent, searching for— 

“Nhhgh.” Steve said. Bingo. 

Bucky experiments a bit more with pressure and location before settling back into the rhythm he knows is bound to get Steve off as fast as possible. He was relatively quiet before, all soft moans and cut-off gasps, but now Bucky can practically see the tension in every line of his body. Fuck, he must be pretty close. Bucky waits until Steve's eyes slip shut with pleasure, and then traces the underside of his dick with a light, teasing fingertip. Steve’s hips jerk forward, almost unconsciously searching for more, and Bucky's metal hand slips right out. Bucky wipes the slick onto Steve's inner thigh, and grins when he shudders. 

"Aww, none of that 'til I say so. Or... Or else. Now stay still, pal." 

"That's not very threatening, Buck," Steve grinds out. "You can make better threats than that." That little shit is practically egging him on. Without warning, he grabs Steve by his hair and shoves his face back into the pillow. 

"How 'bout this? Stay still, don't come, or I'll fuck your throat so hard you won't be able to talk at the press conference tomorrow." He emphasizes it with a harsher shove, feeling a zing of satisfaction when Steve stays where he put him. Good. He turns his attention back to the rest of Steve. He pinches a nipple with one hand, and reaches back with the other to pull his legs further apart. 

"I'm not going to fuck you," Bucky announces, and Steve almost pulls his head back up before he catches himself. 

"But _this_ is." 

Bucky loses the dramatic touch he’s got going for him when he has to rummage around the box for the toy, but he can tell the suspense weighs on Steve. So he takes an extra second to smear the lube over the dildo, making sure Steve can hear the slick drag of skin on silicone. The toy isn’t much for length, but it was thick, textured, and a hilarious shade of green. He'd picked it up for the shock factor when he first saw it, but Steve had seemed to take a shine to it after he stopped laughing long enough to get it inside him. 

"Does it bother you that you can't see what I'm doing?" he asks innocently. Steve mumbles something incoherent into the pillow. Shit, he's going to have to wash that too if he kept drooling all over it. He gives Steve a smack on his ass, not enough to jolt him forward, but enough to leave a nice pink print. 

"Good. You won't know what's coming." Bucky lines up the blunt head of the toy. He can practically see Steve tensing up, then forcing himself to relax. Bucky's reasonably sure he can take it, but god, Steve doesn't know what's coming. Sometimes, Bucky’s still not sure how Steve could stand to turn his back to him, to be so vulnerable and trusting to someone like _him_. But sometimes, he thinks about willingly putting more bullets into Steve, his Stevie, and the sheer unlikeliness, and he understands. He doesn’t say these thoughts out loud. Now isn’t the time. Instead, he starts to push the toy in. _That_ forces a low moan out of Steve, but he resolutely stays in place. Good boy. When he's fully stretched around the blunt tip, Steve lets out a shuddering sigh. Bucky doesn't wait for Steve to adjust. His metal arm allows him to push in at a firm pace, relentless and steady. Steve's sweating now, and Bucky bets his arms were cramped and uncomfortable where they were pinned under him. Bucky watches, mesmerized, as the last few centimeters sink in. 

"Give-- Gimme a minute." Steve pants. Bucky can see Steve's jaw shift as he gasps into the pillow. "Fuck, that's, Jesus-- f-fucking," 

"Take your time, doll. Use your words." Bucky drawls. Because he's an asshole. 

"It's big," Steve says, and exhales, trying to relax. "Fuck." 

Bucky sits back and waits for a second, to let him catch his breath and also to admire his own handiwork. His best guy, all spread out and needy like this on his bed. Their bed. 

He reaches down, then, and wraps a hand around Steve’s erection. It hangs heavy between his thighs, and he's so hard it looks _painful_. Steve tenses at the touch, seemingly forgetting about the toy splitting him open. He thrusts forward, desperate for more stimulation, and his breath comes out in cute little pants. Bucky lets it happen for a few moments, but just as Steve’s pace quickens, he pulls his hand away. His hips jerk into air, trembling. Bucky laughs, and reaches down to scoop something else out of their toy box. 

“I told you to stay still.” 

“Please, Buck,” His voice is small now, desperate. Bucky doesn’t respond, knowing how badly Steve wants to look back. Instead, he examines the plug in his hand. It’s utilitarian black, and he’s pretty sure this is the one that vibrates, connected with an app on his phone or something. 

“Jesus, Steve, you should see yourself.” Bucky sighs. 

“Well I can’t with my face in the pillow can I?” 

If the fucker can still sass him, he isn’t doing his job right. He grabs the flared base of the dildo and starts pulling it back out. Steve is still now, every muscle in tense anticipation. 

When only the tip is left inside, Bucky pauses. “Fast or slow?” He said. Steve tries to shift back, but Bucky clamps his free hand around his leg. Bucky pulls the toy back more, teasing. “Seems kinda soon to start off so quick. I’ll let you get used to it first, huh?” 

Steve groans in frustration. “Fast, you asshole. You know I can take it. You know how I like it, you just want to hear me beg—“ 

His Stevie is so smart. He pushes it in slow anyways, just to watch him squirm. The friction isn’t enough to do anything but hint at what’s to come. 

“Jesus, faster, put it in me, damn it,” Steve grinds out, and it’s like a switch is flipped, from demanding to desperate. “Please, Bucky, I need it.” 

“Fuck, you look so pretty all flushed like that.” Bucky pants, and he’s out of breath from just watching Steve struggle to stay still. To take what he’s giving him, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Buck, pretty please? Fuck me faster, god, I know I’m not allowed to come, but I need—“ Steve’s throat bobs. “I need—“ 

“Use your words, darling.” He drags the toy back out at the same maddening, slow speed, angling it to brush against Steve’s prostate. 

“Shit, Buck, I’ll be _good_ , please?” Bucky acquiesces, and his grip on Steve’s hip shifts to brace him when he slides the toy home with one smooth movement. Before Steve can recover, he draws back and sets a brutal pace. Once he’s sure he won’t fall over, he moves his other hand to sweep a thumb over the head of Steve's dick. Steve’s hips jerk. 

“Fuck, Bucky I’m gonna—“ and that’s the cue for him to pull the toy all the way out of him. 

“No you aren’t,” Bucky says, almost conversationally. 

Steve makes a long, frustrated noise, but Bucky just gives him a friendly pat on the ass. God, he’s a sight like this, spread open and vulnerable, slick with sweat and lube and spit. Bucky wants to fuck him, to kiss him, to get so close he’s inside him, and he’s almost stunned by how intensely _right_ this feels. 

Bucky doesn’t say that. Instead, he drags two fingers along the underside of Steve’s dick, gathering up what excess has dripped down. He’s economical like that. He spreads it over the head of the butt plug, and angles the toy down before pushing it in. There was practically no resistance, and the base fit snugly against Steve’s ass. 

“Go take a cold shower,” Bucky says, wiping his hand on the sheets. They were a lost cause anyways. 

Steve stands up, and Bucky gets a good look at his face. Yeah he would be just fine with dragging this game on for a while if he could see Steve look like that for a bit longer. The cheek laying on the bed was red, and his eyes were shiny, but it was his slack-jawed, dazed expression that made Bucky want to reach up and kiss him silly. Instead, he sweeps his eyes down in an obvious motion. 

“Go,” he says. “And you’ll know better than to touch yourself, won’t you?” 

Steve can only nod. Bucky resists the temptation to smack Steve’s ass when he turns to leave, absentmindedly grabbing a towel off of the back of a chair. 

Bucky takes the chance to clean up a little and contemplate how he wants the rest of… whatever this is to play out. Steve had said, on the couch, that he wanted him to push at his limits. About wanting to be on the edge, to be exactly where Bucky wants him, to be good for him. Bucky understands. He mentally maps out the following day as he smooths a shirt over the wet spot and puts away the lube and toys. 

When Steve returns, Bucky pulls him into a quick kiss. His skin is cool and still kind of damp, but his cock is still half hard. Seems like he took the cold shower suggestion to heart, but with little success. Steve leans back to turn off the lights, and Bucky shifts the sheets so there’s room for two. As Steve gets settled in bed, Bucky sneaks a hand down to nudge at the base of the plug. Steve’s breath hitches. “Goddamn it, Buck. You know I have a press thing first thing tomorrow morning,” he says with fond exasperation. Bucky just smiles and presses a kiss into the nape of his neck. Of course he knew. He was prepared. 

———

Bucky shuts off the alarm almost as soon as it rings. He shoves the blankets to the foot of the bed and maneuvers Steve to lie spread-eagle on it. Steve usually wakes at a hair trigger, but Bucky keeps up a litany of quiet reassurances and he relaxes back with a sigh. Bucky nudges his legs apart, and the sight of the plug still in there sent a spark coursing through Bucky. His own dick twitches, but he decides to ignore it as he lies down between Steve’s legs. Propped up on his elbows, he tilts his head forward to lick a long stripe from base to tip. In the early morning light, he can see the shiny trail his spit leaves behind. Gently, he takes the head of Steve’s cock into his mouth. He swirls his tongue, making little circles around that spot that Steve likes-- 

“Well, good morning.” Steve’s voice is low, and Bucky flicks his eyes up to look at him through his eyelashes. Damn, he woke up faster than he was expecting. He does the tongue thing again, and Steve sucks in a sharp breath. He’s definitely leaking now, and Bucky reaches a hand forward to stroke the bottom half of Steve’s dick where his mouth doesn’t quite reach. 

Steve gets worked up so easily, probably not helped by how last night had ended. He squirms, eyes dropping down to Bucky’s other hand, where his thumb pressed against his perineum and his knuckle rocking against the base of the plug. Steve licked his lips. “Am I allowed to…” he said, trailing off. Bucky pulls back after giving Steve’s dick one last hard suck, and gives him a beatific grin. 

“Nope.” 

Steve groans, and his head thunks back against the pillow. 

“Hurry up, doll. Wouldn’t want you to miss your press conference. Make sure to have your phone on ya.” Bucky grins. Steve grumbles something unintelligible, and gets up to go put some clothes on. Bucky gives Steve’s ass one last slap as he saunters past to go make his boyfriend some breakfast. 

———

After Steve leaves, Bucky makes himself busy. Steve had already put the dishes in the sink, but Bucky rinses them off and places them in the dishwasher. He strips the sheets, stuffing them in the washing machine with his rumpled shirt. He waters their plants. Just because they ‘thrive on neglect’ doesn’t mean they have to. His therapist had said that about him too, and he still wasn’t too sure how to feel about that. 

He checks his phone, resolutely not opening the app that controlled the vibrating plug. Nope. 

There’s still a while before the fun can start. Bucky feels a weird craving for something sweet. He opens his phone, swipes past the app to his browser, and goes googling for brownie recipes. 

Bucky takes a few minutes to gather everything on the list, and ends up having to substitute a few ingredients. He follows the instructions to the letter, and carefully folds the batter until “just combined” when the cocoa powder is added. He pours it into the paper-lined glass container, mesmerized by the smooth, creamy flow and rich, dark color. As he slides it into the oven with his metal hand, he contemplates other things to prepare. A glass of water, maybe, Bucky smirks to himself. He’ll definitely be dehydrated after their… activities. He washes the bowls and the measuring cups too, and places them by the plates from breakfast. It was a little more than a half-hour into the conference, and he reckons it’s been long enough for Steve to have gotten accustomed to the weight of the toy inside him. 

Brownies baking and apartment cleaned, Bucky sits back onto the couch. He turns on the TV, flipping through the channels and static until he lands on one that’s covering the Avenger’s press conference on their most recent mission. It wasn’t that big of an op, but there were hints of something more sinister behind it that they couldn’t ignore. Natasha had just finished up saying something, and the throng of press were already clamoring for more details. She ignores them and breezes past to sit back down. Bucky waits for Steve to walk up to the podium before he taps open the app. 

Steve’s face was neutral and serious-looking, half Captain America and half father figure. His step was even, and god, nobody in the whole wide world knew except for the two of them what Steve was hiding under those slacks. He eyes his phone again, lying innocently in his lap. Steve began talking, and shit, if they could handle a PR disaster with Stark, they can probably clean up after Steve if he blushes a little. In front of a whole crowd. Hell, the whole world wide web, too. Bucky faintly wonders if they’d make a funny looping video --what are they called, jifs?— of Steve’s surprised face when it turns on. He was so caught up in that idea that he didn’t hear what Steve said. But Steve sure did say something, because suddenly everybody in the damn room is clamoring to ask questions. Perfect. It wouldn’t be weird if he froze up for a second there. 

Bucky barely resisted cackling out loud like some comic book supervillain as he drags the slider up to the first setting. Nothing happens. Yet. Steve is still just standing there, channelling all the grave, fatherly disappointment he could muster. Bucky can’t help but lean forward, anticipation sharp on his tongue. Fuck, how long is the lag on this thing? This would be the worst time to find out that the packaging was lying about ‘long distance’ or ‘extended battery life’. 

On screen, Steve twitches. Bucky doesn’t know if he’s more relieved that the damn thing works or amused by Steve’s microexpressions. They flit across his face in rapid succession. Surprise, embarrassment, and yeah, he was _turned on_ by this. The camera angle changes then, to a closer view as Steve clears his throat and continues talking. His hands are flat on the podium, almost unnaturally tense, and Bucky relaxes a little at that. He’s reasonably sure that Steve was into it, but it was good to have proof that he wants this just as much as Bucky does. Even if Steve wasn’t able to slip a safeword into his speech, he still had his hand signals. 

His face is forced neutral again, but yeah, fuck, Steve is _into it_. He takes it all in stride, which would almost be disappointing if it wasn’t so impressive. His baby was so in control all the time, and he can’t help but want to give him some reprieve from that. He resists the urge to dial it up to give Steve some real stimulation. Just on the brink of almost-enough was the worst, in Bucky’s experience. The subtle buzz of it will at least keep him on edge. Shit, thought Bucky, suddenly giddy with power. This thing had about ten goddamn settings. Holy fuck. He couldn’t help but reach down and run a hand over the crotch of his sweatpants, and _nice_. He was half-hard already, and there was a warm feeling pooling low in his gut that suggested more to come. He’s happy that his body was up to participate in today’s activities, that’ll make things interesting. Nothing gets Steve off like seeing Bucky come, he thinks with a strange sort of satisfaction.

Steve-on-TV finishes up whatever he’s saying and walks to sit back down. Bucky accounts for lag this time, and coordinates the toy to go up another three settings just as he sits down. The cameras are focused on Tony now, Tony and his ego and confidence, but Bucky tunes it out to focus single mindedly on Steve. He doesn’t seem to be doing too badly, but he shifts in his seat every few minutes, discreetly trying to get comfortable. Not enough to be noticeably squirming, though, he knows better than that. 

Tony had finished up what he was saying, and makes some joke at the expense of some political figure or the other. The team and others onstage were filing off, walking down a gauntlet of reporters and microphones and flashing cameras. Just as Steve steps down the stairs, Bucky dials the vibrator as high as it goes. Now _there’s_ a reaction, a real one. Steve visibly stiffens and his eyes widen, and Bucky feels a flash of heat. He takes the opportunity to slip a hand down his waistband. He curls flesh fingers around his dick, and gives it a quick stroke. Bucky can’t help but to be fixated by the little pixels that shift when Steve licks his lips, the hard lines of tension present even from the zoomed-out shot. Jaw clenched, Steve walks the rest of the way off screen. Bucky faintly wonders what it feels like, being so aware that nobody else was aware. Oh, Bucky’s going to take him _apart_ when he comes home. 

Steve would come home, all worked up and, and Bucky… well, Bucky has plans. Then they can eat brownies and order something and, and. Wait, fuck. Shit, he realizes belatedly. He didn’t set a timer for the brownies. He moves to switch off the TV, and walks back to the kitchen. The brownies aren’t quite ready, still kind of undercooked, so he pops them back in for a few more minutes. He absentmindedly adjusts himself as he waits, the smell of chocolate settling in their apartment. 

———

He’s sitting back on the couch again when he hears Steve come up. The thunk of his shoes against the stairs is uneven, and lighter than usual. Bucky opens the door before Steve can insert his key, and gives him his best asshole smirk. 

“Missed me?” 

“You know, I spent the whole damn ride here thinking about how I was going to tell you off for pulling a stunt like that, but _god_ , Buck, that was fucking hot.” Steve’s face is red, and his pupils were blown huge as he surges forward to pull Bucky into a kiss. He hooks the door with his foot, pushes it shut, and in the same movement, turn around and slams Bucky against the door. It makes Bucky’s head spin in the best way. In another world, another him would’ve felt pinned, trapped in a situation like this. But Bucky just felt held, _safe_ , and the hot heat of Steve’s dick pressing against his thigh gives him a heady rush of arousal. He was up and ready to go as well, and Steve presses in to grind against him. He takes the opportunity to sneak a hand to press down on the plug, and shit, it’s still vibrating. Hard. His phone is lying forgotten on the couch, _Jesus_ , he didn't turn it off, did he? After he dialed it up to the highest setting, he’d forgotten, and went to go check on the fucking _brownies_. 

Bucky smirks to himself. Steve probably hadn’t forgotten. Steve had to walk out of the building, jostled by throngs of reporters. Steve must’ve called a car, and on the drive back, he would’ve felt every bump on the road, every sharp stop. Steve had walked up the goddamn stairs, every movement making the toy shift inside him. 

“God, you look so fucking hot when you’re turned on like this.” Bucky hisses as Steve manhandles him, knee wedged firmly between his legs. He’d be lying if that didn’t make his knees go a bit weak. Steve’s pressing firm, open-mouthed kisses to Bucky’s throat, and it feels _fantastic_ , heated and passionate all at once, and when Steve pulls back for a second, Bucky almost whines. He almost forgets how good this body can feel sometimes, how wonderful it was to have something beyond the passive pleasure of following orders-- only from Steve, always from Steve-- or the cold satisfaction of a job well done. 

“Bucky, shit, bed?” Steve said. Short and to the point. He isn’t beating around the bush now, he knows what he wants, and Bucky was just along for the ride.

“The sheets are still in the washing machine,” Bucky says, ever the voice of reason. “And I’m not gonna be the one to have to clean spunk off the damn mattress itself.” 

Steve groans, and eyes the couch. 

“Steve, no. We invite guests over on that. Your friends sit on that couch. Clint ate popcorn off of that once, and he’ll probably do it again.” 

Steve ignores his perfectly logical points and maneuvers him towards it anyways. He must be pretty wrecked, Bucky thinks hysterically. _Holy shit_. Steve pushes him back onto the couch and almost sends him sprawling. It’s overstuffed and rough, scraping against his heated skin in a way that’s bound to chafe. Bucky really wishes he didn’t like that so much. Steve was already pulling his dress shirt off, and Bucky takes the cue to do the same. They get their clothes off in record time, and toss them onto the carpet. Bucky’s about to say something when Steve sinks to his knees and looks up at him with such genuine, candid want that Bucky’s brain short-circuits. 

“Bucky, if I’m good for you, will you let me come?” There was a crackling intensity to his stare now, and Bucky can’t look away. His throat is dry, and shit, he's the luckiest guy in the world, god, he doesn’t want to deny his doll _anything at all_ , but no. That isn’t what Steve wants. He swallows, and chokes out a response as casually as he can. 

“I’ll think about it, baby. Depends on how good you are, I guess.” 

Steve grins at that, and pulls Bucky’s legs wide to shift between them. “Then I’ll just have to convince you, huh? Show you how good I can be for you?” 

Jesus, Bucky’s pretty sure he can come from just listening to him talk. 

Bucky was _hard_ , and Steve’s lips wrapped around the tip is not enough and too much at the same time. “Fuck,” Bucky groans. He was going to last an embarrassingly short time if Steve kept on looking at him like that. He lets his eyes slip shut, and sinks down on his dick until his nose was touching his stomach. Bucky can feel Steve’s throat spasming around him, and he pulls back up halfway, enough to get a small breath, and gets back down. “Steve,” Bucky warns. He can feel his orgasm building already, sharp and fast, and Steve hums a “hm?” sound that he could _feel_ around his cock. Bucky scrabbles at Steve’s short hair to pull him back up. 

“Keep that up and I won’t last much longer,” Bucky said sternly. Steve just looked smug. He bent down to give it one last lick, and then stands up in one fluid movement. “Wow, now you know how I feel.” Steve pushes Bucky’s chest until his back was flat against the back of the couch, and straddled him. 

“This whole damn day, Buck. God, when you turned that thing on, it was fucking-- shit, it was surreal,” Steve rambles as he reached back to pull out the plug. It’s still fucking vibrating, and in their quiet apartment on a weekday afternoon, the buzz of it fills his ears like the tension in the room is audible. He places it neatly on the coffee table. Steve lines himself up, and as he sinks down, he flicks his eyes back up to look at Bucky. 

“I love you.” He says quietly. God, Steve was going the full nine yards. He knows that it wasn’t the simple act of sex that hit Bucky the hardest. It was the love behind it, the connection, shit, it’s the fact that it’s _Steve_ that makes electricity crackle in him. “I love you too,” Bucky said. It hung between them, sincere and overwhelming. 

It was a long minute before Steve moves, fucking himself down on Bucky’s cock with an exhale. Bucky reaches up to rest his hands on Steve’s hips, not pushing. Just holding. Steve sets his speed, and Bucky’s focus zeroes in on Steve’s cock. It’s been untouched since this morning, he realizes with a jolt. Fuck, that must’ve been uncomfortable, but he wasn’t sure if it was the good kind or not. 

“What does it feel like?” 

Steve looks at him, eyes slightly unfocused and mouth parted. 

“To be on the edge like that. Is it. Good?” Bucky clarifies. Steve hums. 

“Frustrating. But in a good way. It feels like… There’s this pressure, and the build-up, and then, fuck, it _aches_. It makes me want to-- fuck, yes. Yeah, Buck, it’s good. Perfect. ” 

Steve had been pushing himself up and down onto Bucky the whole time, and his whole body was tilted in a way that Bucky knows won’t even brush against his prostate. Well, that’s no fun. He stops Steve with a gentle squeeze, and rearranges him on his lap so that he’s leaning back. He also grabs the plug and places it beside him on the couch. Yeah, it’s probably going to get lube all over it, but if Bucky was going to fuck Steve on it? The couch was already a lost cause anyways. Once he’s sure Steve’s balanced, he moves his hips in long, deep strokes. 

“Fuck, Bucky, yes,” Steve digs his fingers into Bucky’s wrists, still tight on his hips. He’s breathing raggedly in time with his thrusts, little noises punched out of him with every snap of Bucky’s hips. Bucky feels himself losing his rhythm, and-- 

“Hey,” said Bucky, almost breathlessly. “Steve.” 

Steve’s eyes were half-lidded in pleasure. “Yeah?” 

“Come.” 

Bucky wasn’t really expecting Steve to be able to, just… on the spot, but Steve’s whole body shudders, holy fuck, Bucky can _feel_ that. Steve’s hunched over, gasping into Bucky’s ear as he comes. His cock twitches as it shoots off onto his stomach, the head leaking with the last drops of come. His hard-on doesn’t even flag. Bucky takes pity on him and curls his hand into a loose fist for him to fuck up into. As he rocks forward, Bucky’s dick shifts inside him too, and god, that feels amazing. After having the image of Steve coming on command burned into his brain, it's no surprise when Bucky couldn’t hold still anymore and fucks up into him in short thrusts. “Steve,” he warned, and Steve gave him a shit-eating grin and clenched down on him. 

Bucky comes with his eyes slipping shut and mouth opening obscenely wide. Steve takes the opportunity to slide the pad of his finger against Bucky’s back teeth and presses down on his tongue. It kept his jaw propped open, and he can feel saliva pooling behind his teeth. It made his skin heat up in a strange, humiliating way, and Bucky felt _vulnerable_ , being on full display for Steve. His metal hand comes up between them, and he pinches Steve’s nipple, partially to distract himself, partially to distract Steve. He was still buried inside him, and he could probably go again, but this wasn’t about him. He tilts his hips in the way he knows Steve likes it, and rocks up in one swift movement. 

It felt different, slicker, _filthier_ , knowing that his come was part of why Steve felt so good around him. He can feel a bit of it leak out when he pulls back, and his whole body shivers. God, they are never having movie night at their place ever again. This couch is going to reek of sex by the end of it, and Bucky can’t even find it in himself to care. He takes pity on Steve, and runs a thumb across the underside of his cock. 

Steve stiffens and shoots off a second time, head lolling back to expose his throat. Bucky desperately tries to not find that hot. They’ve done this before, two orgasms were hardly difficult for their enhanced bodies, but Bucky still can’t help but to marvel at how _pretty_ Steve is in his lap. How wholesome his jawline and eyes made him look, how even though his body is 100% authentic American beefcake, his eyelashes and waist look so feminine, how the flush of sex and exertion made his pale skin flush, and how utterly _debauched_ he looked with spunk splattered all over him. 

When he reaches for his dick again, Steve shakes his head, eyes open wide. 

Bucky pauses. “C’mon Steve. One more. What’s the superserum used for if you’re not taking advantage of the whole refractory period thing?” He keeps his tone light. If Steve really wanted to tap out, he’d be happy with that too, but something in his gut told him he wanted to be pushed a little further tonight. He drags a finger through the mess on his stomach, and smears it across the head of Steve’s cock. Bucky swears he can see Steve’s thighs quiver at that. 

“D-dunno, Buck. I don’t think this is what Erskine had in mind when he--” Steve inhales sharply as Bucky formed a loose fist shiny with come, and slides it down his length. Steve’s whole body’s strung as tight as a wire, trembling through the oversensitivity. 

“Is this still too much?”

Steve nods miserably. “Wanna be good for you, Bucky.” 

“Shh, doll, you’re doing amazing. Thanks for telling me.” 

Bucky places a guiding hand under his ass, and lifts him up. His cock slips out with a dribble of come, and Bucky shifts awkwardly so that Steve can sit down on the couch. Steve was loose and boneless in his arms, and Bucky manipulates him into a sitting position with legs spread wide. 

“Come on baby, I’ll make this easy for you,” murmured Bucky, kneeling down. Aside from letting Steve stretch his legs a bit, he also gets first row seats to see his own come leaking out of Steve. And onto the couch. Fuck. Obviously, he has no other choice but to lick it up. Steve gasps, and he continues the motion, pressing his tongue to Steve’s perineum and licking a stripe up his cock. He grabs the vibrating plug again, and lines the tip up with Steve. “Hold onto that for me, will ya?” he said, and Steve’s mouth makes a perfect O as it slipped back inside. He loosely holds the base of Steve’s dick with his other hand, and leans forward to take him into his mouth. 

“Ohgod _shit_ , this is too much,” Steve mutters, under his breath. Bucky can’t get a good look at his face from this angle, so he stops his ministrations to examine Steve. He looks _wrecked_ , and his eyes are shiny like he’s about to cry. There’s come drying all over the front of him, and he’s pretty sure he’s got a drop on his chin too. Has he pushed too far? Shit. Steve is panting, and Bucky can see the rise and fall of his chest as he tries to catch his breath. 

“What the fuck, Buck, why‘dya stop?” Steve slurred. “I can take it.” Bucky resists the hysterical giggle bubbling up inside him at the rhyme, and gets back down to business. “Roger, Rogers.” he replies, and it feels like something had clicked back into place. 

———

The last one took a little longer to wring out of Steve, but Bucky had a smart goddamn mouth and a quick tongue, and the stimulation was just wet enough to not be overwhelming. Steve came with a few weak spurts and a low, drawn-out moan, hand reaching down to cradle Bucky’s jaw. Bucky reaches up to tilt Steve’s face downwards, and his hands come away wet. 

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you,” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and reaches down to pull out the plug. He sets it on the coffee table, where the previous lube stain had just dried. Steve looks wrung out but satisfied, and shit, he practically _glows_ in the afternoon sun. “Now let's get you cleaned up.” Bucky stands, and Steve sways forward to press his face to the mess on Bucky’s abs. He licks it, and smears it across his face. Bucky grins. 

“Not like that, doll.” Bucky runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, before remembering that he had lube and come all over that hand. Oops. Steve was still too caught up in the moment to notice, but fuck, tissues weren’t gonna cut it if they kept it up. They probably both need a shower. And a new couch. And new sheets. 

“Don’t go,” Steve mutters, pulling him back. Bucky obliges, and ends up in a tangled, slightly sticky cuddle pile on the couch. He wasn’t sure if he was getting come all over Steve or if Steve was getting come all over him, but at this point, he doesn’t really care. 

“Can’t believe you did that.” Bucky can feel the curve of Steve’s smile on his skin, but he couldn’t help but be a bit nervous. 

“Did what?” he says, some strange blend of cocky and nervous in his voice. 

“The press conference thing! Shit, Buck, Nat gave me this little sideways look as we were on the way back. She totally knew.” 

Oops. “Did you like it though?” 

Steve groans, pressing his face harder into Bucky. “Yes,” he says, sounding _mortified_ at this admission. “Yeah, it was. Good. And then I came home, and you were so fucking smug, and the apartment smelled amazing, and--” “Fuck.” Bucky sat up, almost knocking Steve off the couch. 

“What?” Steve lifts his head, rolling over so Bucky can get up. He pushes himself upright with the coffee table, noticing the vibrator had tipped over was _still fucking buzzing_ , leaving a snail trail of lube across the glass. If that got on the carpet-- they might as well sanitize the whole fucking house. He scrambles to the kitchen, buck ass naked. 

“ _Fuck_! The brownies.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was some mild sweet totally 100% vanilla porn, right folks? A big thank you to Sassbandit, JHSCdood, Magdaliny, and Aggressivewhenstartled for betaing and countless others in the discord for being so encouraging! I dont think I ever would’ve started writing otherwise. Find me on tumblr at @saffrn, where I have lots of drawings and puns!
> 
> ...And yes, that was my first time writing smut. How’d I do?


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